


What’s in the box, Brienne?

by tall_wolf_of_tarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, F/M, I wrote this instead of napping, PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_wolf_of_tarth/pseuds/tall_wolf_of_tarth
Summary: Brienne accidentally finds Jaime's collection of pornography.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 20
Kudos: 131





	What’s in the box, Brienne?

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, unedited, written on the phone.

** What’s in the box, Brienne? **

She doesn’t know why she takes out the the box in the back of her wardrobe. It’s clearly labelled “PORN” and she shouldn’t touch it. It’s Jaime’s, and obviously private. But she has spent a whole week in Jaime’s apartment trying very hard not to look at Shirtless Jaime wearing only soft sweatpants that are hanging low on his hips and clearly showing the shape of Jaime’s cock. 

Of course Jaime is the kind of person who goes commando in soft thin sweatpants and never wears a shirt in his home thinks Brienne. Brienne should have realised what’s he like before moving here but it’s too late now and she has nowhere else to go and she is wound up now and horny and the box with labelled PORN isn’t sealed with tape besides Jaime wouldn’t know if she would take a peek what’s inside.

She has thought about the box all week. Thought about what might be in there. Magazines maybe, full of pictures of pretty girls sporting ample bosoms and thigh gaps. She has thought about Jaime looking at the magazines, touching his cock through the soft fabric of his pants and then pushing his hand under the waistband. 

In that point Brienne always has to stop whatever she was trying to do and go and try to cool down.  You shouldn’t think about your friend like that , she knows. But the thoughts come to her no matter how much she avoids them; Jaime and the box and Jaimes soft sweatpants and the way Jaime’s chest hair makes a little trail down across his belly towards his pants, and then Brienne has to stand up from her laptop again and splash some cold water to her face. 

Brienne manages to hold herself together until Saturday. Wound up and stressed out she goes to the gym, comes home, finds Shirtless Jaime reading in the living room and immediately realises that she just can’t take it at all. So Brienne puts back her sneakers and backs out the door and goes to run instead. Several hours later she has used all her pent up energy, or that’s what she thinks until she comes home again and the Shirtless Jaime comes down the hallway with a towel in his hands, all dewy from the shower and wearing a pair of pyjama pants that are even thinner than his sweatpants. Brienne freezes where she stands and feels her blood flushing and relocating inside her body to various inconvenient body parts. Mainly it seems to go to her face but a fair amount of it rushes down to her privates as well.

“Brienne,” Jaime greets her little breathlessly. There are two pink spots high on his cheeks. Did he went to run while I was away, Brienne ponders for a moment. “Do you want to watch a movie with me?” Jaime asks her, and moves towards the kitchen without any care in the world. 

Brienne watches how the muscles dance on his naked back when he towels his hair. There’s no way that she can sit next to him on the sofa and not look at him. 

“I need a wash,” she mutters and makes her escape towards her room. “I can wait,” she hears Jaime shouting behind her. 

“No!” She squeaks. “I mean, no don’t wait.” She doesn’t even turn around. “I need to work.” It’s not until she is in her bathroom, behind the locked door safely away from Shirtless Jaime, she lets out a breath and opens the tap to run herself a bath.

The bath is unsatisfactory. The wank she has in the bath is even less satisfactory. The mental images she shuffles through her mind while touching herself (Renly, Arthur Deane in The Oathkeeper, Dacey Mormont in her Furiosa outfit) are not sufficient at all. When a thought of blond happy trail on a naked torso crosses her mind she comes with a frustrated sigh and small twitch in her cunt. Surprisingly Brienne feels dirtier and hornier leaving the bathroom than going in there. 

Brienne actually does have work to do, but she ignores her laptop. There is no way she can think about work. The box comes to her mind again. What she needs is a good solid wank and some new visuals to help her to achieve a better orgasm.

When the box is on her bed she almost chickens out. PORN, reads in big lopsided letters, in Jaime’s handwriting. Brienne feels her heart beating. 

What if there are toys, she thinks. Images of purple and pink dildos come to her. The thought of a fat pink dildo sliding in to her cunt flashes to her mind next and Brienne lifts her hands to her face in embarrassment before her mind races to next image: Jaime’s hands holding that dildo and... 

When Brienne realises what she is thinking she squeaks like a mouse and forcibly evicts  that thought out of her mind as fast as she can. 

That’s not PORN , Brienne, a voice sounding vaugly like Margaery tells her in her mind.  It’s more likely to be magazines or dvds , the voice continues educationally. 

I’ll just take a peek, Brienne tells herself. Jaime won’t know if I watch one of the films. I’ll just look, and put everything back again. 

When she opens the box, there are no sordid magazines or dvds with bare-chested women on them. The box is full of old paperback books. Novels. 

Brienne picks up one. “A Night with a True Knight” the title reads. On the cover there is oil painting of a knight and a woman dressed in a sheer shift clutching him. When she opens the book the pages are full of scribbles and markings in familiar lopsided hand. She picks up another book, and another. They are all historical fiction full of brave knights, fair maidens and smut. Lots and lots of smut. And annotations. In Jaime’s handwriting. 

Fuck, thinks Brienne, falls backwards to her bed and clutches one book to her chest. She opens the book and starts to read. 


End file.
